


Hellbound

by Tarlan



Category: The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Community: smallfandomfest, M/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Post-Movie(s), Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:59:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1714772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were two kinds of Necromonger - human and something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hellbound

**Author's Note:**

> **Smallfandomfest** FEST15  
>  **Trope Bingo** Round 3: au: supernatural  
>  **MMoM 2014** : DAY 30

He hadn't noticed before how the halls of the Necropolis suited his shined eyes. Dark shadows and low lighting meant he did not require his goggles except under exceptional circumstances. It was quiet too, like a tomb, and in all his wanderings around the Basilica ship, he realized he had not once come upon a dining hall. Corridors full of those undergoing purification radiated out from the Necropolis, the converts hanging like pieces of meat in an abattoir, but otherwise the Necropolis remained empty.

He noted a difference between the many layers of Necromonger society. Most seemed to be little more than slaves, shackled by their belief in Necroism, like an extreme form of Stockholm Syndrome. Their faces were pale as if from blood loss, the purification marks on their necks fresh and almost swollen. He had taken some of these to his bed, losing himself in their warm bodies.

Others like Vaako had a different kind of paleness, almost as if they were no longer alive at all. The purification marks were old, just puckered scars, yet their complexion was as pale as death, eyes bruised as if with fatigue yet so alert. He noticed small things about them; the way they would tread so carefully as if deliberately slowing their movements, almost certain that he caught a blur of inhuman speed out of the corner of his eye on occasion.

He had only touched Vaako twice but each time had felt different. The first time he had felt nothing unusual in the warm skin beneath his hand but on the second time he could swear the man was too cold to the touch. Of course there might have been any number of reasons. The abattoir might not be the only form of purification. Perhaps others locked themselves into cold rooms to prove their faith. He laughed softly at the thought of Vaako kneeling on the cold floor with his warm breath pluming in the frigid air, eyes closed as he murmured to whatever deity or deities he believed in.

"My Lord?"

Riddick sighed and looked over at the bed to where a handsome man lay naked and willing - just another in a long line of bodies laid out for his pleasure. Riddick was rarely alone in his bed. Sometimes it would be women - one, two... four - but on rarer occasions he took a man to his bed and spent the night pleasuring and being pleasured. It was rare because Vaako always seemed colder on those occasions even though he'd seen no sign of anyone having any hang-ups where the many forms of sex and violence were concerned. Riddick had seen males fawning over males in the open corridors of the Basilica, with no one taking any notice, and Vaako had not broken stride or even glanced in that direction - uncaring.

So it begged the question of why did Vaako care when Riddick took another male to his bed?

"Leave," he ordered.

As he stood alone in his bedchamber for the first time in more than a week, Riddick pondered on that very question. He brought to mind the handsome First Among Commanders, with his almost alabaster skin and fatigue-bruised eyes, knowing that outward sign of exhaustion was simply a mask. Behind it the man was sharp and quick, forming a commanding presence that many of the ' _normal_ ' Necromongers obeyed without question; almost fanatically loyal to him.

Slowly Riddick removed his armor and rolled his shoulders to loose the tension. He stripped down until he was naked and stood before the long mirror adorning his room. There was a time when he wondered if it was a two-way mirror but spending half his life in one slam or another had cured him of any lingering shyness. If anyone was watching then he hoped they enjoyed the nightly show.

Staring at his own reflection, he noted the new and faded scars, and saw the small lines starting to form around his eyes as he grew older. He was in his prime now - strong and firm and well muscled. He was fast and accurate. He let his hand caress one firm pectoral, his fingernail scraping over the nipple, sending a buzz of pleasure straight to his groin. He watched as his cock filled and lengthened, tempted to give it a helping hand but too intrigued to bother. A sharp pinch of the nipple and a harder rake of his nails had him at full hardness, and he moaned in soft appreciation.

The thought of Vaako watching from behind the mirror made him harder still and he finally relented, wrapping his palm around his cock and stroking himself almost casually. His thumb smeared a droplet of precome over the head, and Riddick bit down gently on his lower lip as the delicious sensations had him shifting his hips and pelvis forward, pushing deeper into his own hand. Staring hard into the mirror at an angle he knew would meet Vaako's eyes, he carefully called his name.

"Vaako."

Just when he was beginning to believe he'd been fooling himself, the door to his bedchamber opened and Vaako stepped inside. Riddick frowned when he saw a reflection of the tight body suit that covered Vaako from the neck down, but none of Vaako himself. It occurred to him then that the Necropolis held no truly reflective surfaces. He turned, unashamed of his nudity, wanting to be certain that it was indeed Vaako.

"What are you?"

"No longer human."

Riddick hummed, holding his ground as Vaako moved to almost within arm's reach. He'd heard stories of the 'undead'; creatures that were once human, that lived off the blood of others.

"Vampire," Riddick stated softly, and Vaako did not deny the name.

Unafraid, Riddick stepped forward until they were standing only inches apart, forcing Vaako to look down to maintain eye contact.

"You feed from the converts. Directly? Or do you just drink from the blood drained through those spikes in their necks?"

Vaako smiled, and Riddick watched as Vaako's incisors lengthened. "Does it matter?"

"No." Riddick took another small step closer and whispered soft and deep into Vaako's ear. "Do you want to drink from me?"

He was close enough to feel the shiver that went through Vaako at his words, confirming something he had started to suspect, that Vaako was fascinated by him, that Vaako wanted him. It explained why Vaako had knelt before him that day in the Necropolis, with Zhylaw dead at Riddick's feet. It explained why others of Vaako's kind - other vampires - were disgruntled with Vaako for bowing to a mere human, and why they held contempt for their new Lord Marshal. He was not one of them... but he could be. He was already heading down into Hell anyway.

"Make me one of you," Riddick whispered, recalling old tales and legends, his hands sliding round to grasp Vaako's beautifully curved ass and draw them closer still. He could feel the hard length of Vaako digging into his abdomen. "Make me yours," he demanded, lips brushing Vaako's ear.

He gasped as Vaako struck like a snake, feeling the sting of sharp teeth sinking into his throat, his body feeling heavy as Vaako drained from him. Vaako lowered him to the bed as he drank deeper, only pulling back when Riddick was on the brink of death. Too weak to move, Riddick could only lie there and watch as Vaako undressed, sighing when he felt the warm skin on his own cold flesh, laughing weakly when he realized it was his own blood heating Vaako's skin from within. He could not resist when Vaako draped his naked body over Riddick, lapping at the puncture wounds before biting again.

This time Riddick knew he had crossed the line between life and death, feeling his body shutting down and his vision tunneling until all he could see was Vaako. He licked dry lips as Vaako scored his own throat, and sighed when Vaako lifted his head to press his lips against the rich blood flowing from the open wound. Riddick lapped at it slowly at first, gathering strength until he was latched on tight, almost desperate to regain every drop of blood stolen from him.

Intense arousal filled him as he fed, and he cried out as he came against Vaako, his blood-stained mouth taken in a hungry kiss that followed him down into darkness.

When Riddick awoke he was clean and comfortable, lying in his bed wrapped in the arms of another: Vaako.

He opened his eyes to a new world where colors were more vivid and the heady scent of male sex threatened to overwhelm him with lust - and hunger.

"So what's a man got to do to get a drink around here," he quipped, and saw Vaako smile for the very first time.

END

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